Weaponproof
by newanda.dps
Summary: Avery Willowcress is an unpopular, unique-minded resident of District 2 who has been sabotaged into competing in the Hunger Games. Tensions rise when she butts heads with her conceited and extremely well-known mentor, Cato Hadley. If they can learn to listen to each other, Avery may actually stand a chance.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games, or many of the original characters that are or will be mentioned in this story.**

 **Avery Willowcress is my OC.**

 **Please leave comments/reviews! Would love to know how you guys are feeling about the storyline and character. Avery is very atypical compared to the female protagonists I usually create. I want to make sure I'm doing her justice. And I will say, she has many, MANY flaws that I plan to reveal a bit more as she's pushed to her limits throughout the story. They are also better observed from perspectives other than her own. Her POV typically does not reveal those flaws because of her general persona and mindset.**

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 ****He tossed and turned, sweat beading on his forehead. Screaming echoed in his ears, not only his own but the screams of his victims. He heard his father's proud screams when he returned a victor, and also his mother's sobs when she realized she couldn't look at him the same anymore. The cries created an unbearable symphony of regret and shame. What he saw was almost worse- a forest covered in blood. He tried to run from the crawling, slow-moving corpses making their way to him but his feet were stuck to the ground by the blood as if it were tar. He bent to try to pull himself forward by the ground, by the trees, by anything. His fingernails began to warp and peel off from the failed efforts. The array of dead, blood-soaked children were going to be upon him soon enough. As he turned to face his fate, the screaming still very present in his ears, he thought he could make out a large tuft of curls on the head of the closest corpse to him, but the thought fled his mind as he realized the eyes of the smaller child were glowing a horrifying red and his hands were raw, rotten claws of bone. He let out one final scream before he was able to shake himself fully awake.

Cato sat straight up in bed, still screaming. _Fuck._ He slumped back down on his large, luxurious plush mattress, feeling frustrated and defeated. While he had mostly taken control of his nightmares, their consistency and severity tended to increase when it came that time of the year again. Reaping time. Time to meet another hopeful couple of young killing machines who may or may not die a horrific death in the upcoming weeks. He was once one of those machines… he almost still was. The worst part of the whole ordeal was the constant re-watching of previous games. Every time he was interviewed or mentioned as a mentor, his killings were put on display again and again. "Top Killings", "Top Victors", "Hottest Victors", all of them were littered with his own personal maleficence, and with the corpses that haunted him at night. In his insomnia, he could not even defer to the television this time of the year. It was madness. But it was what he had wanted, right?

He shook it off. _I'm a motherfucking champion,_ he reminded himself. _I owned that arena. I did everything I was taught to do. I won. I win every day. Money, luxury, women… Those kids wouldn't have appreciated it. They didn't win for a reason. I did. Fuck them._

He gave this speech to himself regularly. Still, he knew that an attempt at sleep now would only result in more hauntings, _which are stupid and make NO sense_ , he thought, shivering to himself regardless. He rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tight training shirt. He put on his socks, and his running shoes, and headed outside. He would see how many miles it would take tonight to temporarily forget about the games. The last couple of nights it was somewhere between 5-6, but the first reaping was tomorrow. Tonight, he would surely have to go for at least 10.

...

Avery signed and shivered as she slowly moved the stack of wet bedspread off of her. The girls at the Academy found it fitting to wake her with a bucket of ice water this morning, to celebrate her last day. This afternoon was the last possible time that her name could be drawn at the reaping, not that this was ever something she was afraid of. She lived in District 2. Every year, the two most impressive candidates volunteered themselves to compete in the Hunger Games.  
Unfortunately for her, her reluctance to participate in the hype of the Games was not a popular opinion in her District. The other girls noticed a few years ago that her apathy towards the annual event was odd, and they brought this fact to attention every day.

"What's up with this bitch?" Clove had asked, gesturing at her and looking at the now forming crowd of snickering teens. There had been a debate ongoing regarding whether, if given the choice, one should slaughter a young tribute from 11 with a sword or a harvesting crop. The latter choice would be more ironic, being that this victor is from a farming district, and isn't that what the public would want to see while hungrily observing the slaughtering of somebody's child? Irony? Hmm.

"I feel like they should suffer", Ruby had smirked. "That shitty district needs to be reminded why they never win, and why they're so poor." Avery had tried to lay low and shake off the conversation, but after so much forced listening, and an older girl pushing her and asking what she thought, it felt she had no choice but to sarcastically answer, "If it were up to me, I suppose I would attack with my squirrel army." After a moment of awkward silence, she continued. "Yes, I have a master plan which involves large-scale nut collection, training of large pods of squirrels. It's a whole thing… Anyways, I reckon I would sick my highly trained, lethal squirrel army on the youngling."

Enter Clove's comment. And enter the next few years of torment, beatings, bullying, pranks, wet bed spreads… etc. She was the weirdo that didn't _want_ to compete. She was the one that didn't understand the importance of the inevitable fame and fortune to come with "victory", otherwise known as mass murdering children. She realized the atrocity that these Games were long ago, and only attended the Academy because it had been mandated. She reminded herself daily that she would not be like these other teenagers, thirsting for blood. She would make it through these years without altering her kind heart, her intelligent and curious nature, or her naturally protective tendencies. Her eyes were abruptly opened to the heart ache that came with loss, all thanks to these Games, when she was very young. In that time, she also understood her own personal capacity for darkness. She carried that memory deep within her, though she hardly truly acknowledged it, yet she used it to fuel her moral conduct and unwillingness to mimic the attitudes of the rest of her peers.

This resistance obviously did not make her the most popular girl at the Academy. She was too easy to pick on, being that she consistently refused to fight back. Even after having been beaten by the other girls, ganged up on, having had her clothing destroyed, food taken or spit on, she was always easily able to walk away from the argument with her head held high, and usually a soft smirk on her face. She had an unwavering, mastered sense of humor in times of conflict. She knew she would be better off than her peers in the long run; they would only ever chase after a dream that would rarely be fulfilled. She was obviously better than them. And after all, she would only be here for a short while. With so many fools volunteering themselves to most likely die, on camera, at the hands of other young adults, and the government, she would just have to make it through the Academy. And she did. She was a survivor.

So here she was, able to see the light at the end of the tunnel after having been forced to join the Academy when she was only 8 years old. Her instructors regularly voiced their frustration and cluelessness as to why she would never compete, or take their culture seriously. She was an athletic girl, and genetically inclined in every way to be an absolute weapon. She excelled at many skills within the Academy, and was a force to be reckoned with during one-on-one combat. She was nimble and strong to the degree of deadly perfection. But she decided a long time ago that she wouldn't let her district ruin her. She wouldn't stoop to the level of the killers. She would take the heat, because she could. She would practice sport and physical fitness on her own time, convincing herself it was for the sake of her health. Somewhere deep down, she knew there was a different reason. One that she would not address, like all negative feelings and memories.

This particular morning, Avery heaved the cold wet sheets into the dorm's bin for dirty laundry. She grabbed a few towels, and started to sop some of the water from the mattress. It was then that she realized that this was her last day. She smiled and dropped the towels immediately; she would not be returning to this damp, smelly stack of plush. She stripped herself of her wet clothing, wrapped herself in a robe and walked to the showers to wash the coldness off of her body before breakfast. Naturally, the girls were waiting for her in the shower, as well, with more ice water. Today was going to be super. She dropped her robe upon seeing them, feeling proud at the surprised reaction she elicited, and claimed, "Bring it on." She was doused, pushed to the ground, beaten, kicked in the ribs, all while butt ass naked. These Capitol drones HATED her. And they really hated that they could never get her to break.

The rest of the day went on similarly. Food was thrown, spilled and sneezed in. Small, subtle beatings were somewhat regular. She ended up smoothing out her casual but elegant beige dress that afternoon, preparing for the reaping, glancing at her reflection having garnished a cut lip, bruised cheek and black eye. She fixed her face somewhat with make-up. Her long, full hair was put up into a wavy, messy pony tail with small loose strands of baby hair falling around her face. She smirked, thinking that she would still look lovelier than many of her classmates, regardless of her lightly bludgeoned face. Her dress was classic and form-fitting. It rose to a few inches above her knees, which was typical. She had an athletic build, standing taller than most girls, even in the career districts. Her shoulders were somewhat broad, her chest was on the flatter side admittedly, but her muscles were toned and intimidating. In spite of this, she was feminine and beautiful. She moved smoothly and gracefully, and stuck her feet in her simple brown heels. She was almost ready.

It was then that she heard familiar sniggering and whispering coming up the hallway to the dorms. Surely, they wouldn't pour anything over her before the ceremony or ruin her dress- if they did, they would be punished. Trickery prior to a reaping was not tolerated, unlike the bullying that happened in the open on every other day of the year.

"Hey, Avery!" One of the older girls said in a sickening, fake sweet voice. "So, we have some news for you, sort of a present for it being your last day in the Academy."

"Oh, wonderful." Avery leaned on her mirror, looking unamused yet moderately suspicious. "Lay it on me."

"If you get chosen in the reaping, nobody else is going to volunteer." Another girl blurted excitedly. Avery froze, stunned. _What the actual hell?_

Why? There are plenty of girls in their last year here who I'm _sure_ would love to volunteer. Be the victor. Earn eternal glory. Why would they give that up?" She stammered, glancing around nervously. This could not be true.

"You would think there were a ton of girls ready to volunteer this year. But we've all been talking, and there's really only one stand-out in the last-year students this go around. And she agreed that if you get chosen, she won't volunteer. Wanna know whyyy?" The original older drawled. Avery was frozen, actually affected by their words for the first time. "We all want to see you murdered and destroyed in the arena. We know the guy who's going to volunteer this year- he's going to tear you apart. He promised." Avery relaxed from her previously evident shock as smoothly as she could.

"You can't even be sure that I'm going to be chosen. There are tons of names in that bowl."

"Yes, that is true. But if you do get chosen, you have to compete. And you will be targeted. And you will be tortured, on screen, for HOURS, and you will die."

...

 _This is an odd reaping_ , Cato thought to himself as he watched from the train. The female District 2 tribute's name was actually drawn and called. Nobody volunteered. Typically, before the name was even drawn somebody was stepping forward. Not this time. "Avery Willowcress." A tall, good-looking older brunette stepped forward, head held high. Many of the other girls smiled, he noted, as she passed by them. But this girl did not even glance at them. She strode to the stage and took her place. She did not emote. She stood proudly, and stayed quiet. _She's different_.

The male tribute was a stark contrast. He strode forward and immediately volunteered. He was large- perhaps even more muscular than Cato was at that age. Maybe a bit shorter. Certainly not bigger than Cato was now- he was in better shape now than he had ever been. His masculinity caused him to impulsively flex, look down at his own chiseled chest and arms, and nod in self-approval. He continued watching the reaping.

The male tribute really put on a show for the cameras. He flexed and pointed at his friends. He excitedly hurried to the stage. What he did next puzzled Cato. The tribute, Helbor, looked at the female tribute, and snarled at her, showing his teeth. The gesture was animalistic and outwardly aggressive. The commentator of the television program noticed this as well, dramatically laughing to the viewers that "You don't see that often, folks! Looks like we're in for some interesting Games this year! I know we all can't wait!" Annoying as he may be, this commentator was correct. It was like Helbor was immediately in competition with his District-mate. Usually the careers stuck together, or at the very least usually tributes from the same District were allies. What was it about this girl that was provoking him? Avery glanced at Helbor as he made his disdain for her apparent, then looked blankly forward towards the crowd and cameras as if unaffected.

Cato let himself be somewhat impressed. _She's either very brave, or very stupid._

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 **End notes: Again, please leave a short note! I would really love some feedback. Thanks, all. (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games, or many of the original characters that are or will be mentioned in this story.**

 **Avery Willowcress is my OC.**

 ** **Thank you so much to those who have subscribed and commented!****

 ** ** ** **Please leave comments/reviews! What do you like about Avery? What do you not like? Where would you like to see things go? I'd really love to know what you think!********

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Avery knew she had bitten off more than she could swallow at this point. Every obscenity was running in what seemed like a record through her head as she attempted to embody elegance and grace at the reaping. She intended to keep up this façade as her loved ones came to say goodbye to her.

Her parents were a heartbreaking, horrified, sobbing mess. It took every ounce of energy to stay strong for them.

"Why didn't anyone else volunteer?!" Her mother shouted angrily, though her outburst was obviously more out of confusion and sadness. Her parents were kind-hearted souls who instilled in Avery a strong moral compass and compassionate heart.

"I think this year the females wanted to let the odds decide." She made up a lame, inadequate excuse as if to say, _Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter now. This is what is happening._ "It's okay, mom. I'll be okay." _A blatant lie._

"Please promise me… just promise you'll…" Her mother couldn't even bear to say anything else. Avery hugged both of her parents tenderly. She understood their conflict. What could they possibly say right now? Try to win? Try to make it home? Try to kill people so they could see each other again? These questions racked Avery's mind as they said their final goodbyes and parted ways. _Am I going to kill somebody? After all the time I spent making sure I didn't turn in to a monster, am I going to become one? If there IS some strange, all-knowing mighty being in the sky controlling my life, he/she sure has a hell of a sense of humor. What are the chances that I would get chosen?_

As Avery was led to the train, she started to shake herself of her own unique thoughts. She had to stay strong, at least for a little while longer until she could be alone. She would have to face Helbor again soon, and she would not let him see her falter.

 _You know what? Maybe I should train. Maybe I should make him regret volunteering for the purpose of carrying out some sick villainous plot on a person he'd never met. He doesn't know what I'm capable of._

She carried this attitude with her into the train. She was the first to arrive in their assigned compartment. There were ample luxurious snacks, a large comfortable sofa and a dining room set in the same area. She also noticed a few fine crystal bottles containing dark liquor- yes, please.

She poured herself a glass, with no ice. Mixers were for pussies. She sipped the beverage, enjoying the warmth and calm that it brought. It was then that it occurred to her who she would be meeting with in this compartment, other than Helbor. She would be meeting her mentors today. She'd never thought this far ahead in the process of being selected as tribute- _wow, what a day._ She thought of her potential mentors as her mind racked through an archive of the District 2 champions. Brutus. Fennel. Lyme. Hald. Enobaria. Cato. _Cato._ She remembered him distinctly making an appearance at the Academy a few weeks back for a guest training session; now, she thought she remembered him mentioning that he would be mentoring this year. She also remembered how breathtakingly handsome he was, for a total psychopathic jackass. Cato had won his Games, almost just barely, by knocking his final opponent- an admirable, muscular tribute from District 11- off the top of the cornucopia into a pack of genetically modified mutts. Not before slaughtering a number of weaker, defenseless tributes with his pack of Careers, of course.

Another memory crossed through her mind briefly- the look on Cato's face when he had won. She thought back to the day she watched those games, just a few years ago. She had never before been so confused by a look. His face read proud, then sad, then relieved, then horrified. He screamed, but she couldn't tell if it was in anger or in victory- the rest of Panem assumed it was victory. She thought perhaps otherwise. But she shook this off. No matter what emotion she did or didn't see, he was a killer. And she was about to be in a room with him, and another killer. And a person who wants to kill her. _Oh, happy day._

She heard the door to the compartment swing open, and in entered Helbor and their escort, Mica Bronzeberry. Mica was an overly extravagant young woman with light pink skin, straight white hair and consistently large, ruffled clothing. Avery had hardly noticed her attire until now, having been petrified to death during the reaping. Mica's gold dress protruded at least a foot out from her any direction; it was debatable whether this was from an excessive number of layers, or some sort of wire mechanism stuffed up there. Avery gave her props for how easily she navigated the preposterous thing throughout the cabin as she took a seat at the dining room table.

"Well, have a seat or a snack, my tributes!" She spoke kindly and enthusiastically. Her voice was low and mostly silky with slight rasp, but it was not unpleasant. "You will be meeting with your mentors very soon!" Avery wanted to hate her, but couldn't muster the energy. That energy was being utilized to keep a knowing and suspicious eye on Helbor.

"So. Avery." Helbor spoke, smiling like a large, predatory beast. "Quite an event, that reaping was. I'm curious, if you were the chosen victor this year in your class, why did you not volunteer?" He was a smooth talker, for sure. He was attractive and confident. He paced the cabin like an animal circling its prey.

"I suppose I'm not a showboat like _some_ people. I hold my cards close to the chest."

"I'm your district partner- I think considering all things, you should show me those cards some time…" He glared threateningly, still smirking, and looked up and down her body disturbingly. Avery's nose scrunched up.

"Gross. Handle your own cards, as I'm sure you're more than used to." His face fell slightly.

"Calm down, you two." Mica chided, not particularly bothered or bossy. "I'm sure you are both still buzzing with adrenaline from the reaping. No need to take it out on each other."

"I think taking it out on each other is exactly what we should be doing…" Helbor regained his confidence and winked, leaning back against a counter, slightly flexing.

"Oh, shut up." Avery said instinctively, and confidently. "You're here to kill me, don't act like you're not. Whatever games you were planning on playing, there's really no need."

"My goodness! You two are not going to be able to be around each other, are you?" Mica looked between the two of them. They were interrupted by the final opening of the cabin door. Avery and Helbor kept their eyes on each other as Cato and Enobaria entered the compartment.

...

Cato rolled his eyes as he and Enobaria conversed on their way to the District 2 cabin. "I don't see why you should get to mentor the most promising tribute- what if they're both promising, anyways?"

"You and I both know", Enobaria hissed, "that for the past few years you've secretly scouted the best tribute for yourself. Yours always finishes in the top five- my status as an esteemed mentor has dropped since you won your games."

 _Perhaps that's not entirely my fault_ , he thought to himself. Yes, she was right about his scouting. But what right did she have to call dibs on the best tribute? "I think the way we've been doing things the last couple of years have been just fine." Enobaria sighed.

"I thought that was what you would say," she drawled smoothly. "I just remembered you saying last year that given the chance, you could make _anyone_ a champion. If you're saying now that your success depends solely on which tribute you so happen to choose…" Cato huffed and paused for a few moments. Was he really going to fall into this trap, obviously meant to snag his bloated ego?

"Fine." Yes, he was, apparently. He shrugged nonchalantly anyways. _Fine, only because I could take the weakest, most insignificant tribute in this whole damned competition and they would still finish top 10. If you need a hand out, that's your business._

"Excellent." Enobaria sneered, baring her sharpened teeth. "I'd like to meet them first, but I have a good feeling about the male tribute." Cato scoffed.

"A good feeling having to do with the games, or with your womanly desires?" Cato mocked. She glared at him.

"Oh, please. You're just jealous of him." Now, _that_ was absurd.

"I have never, in my life, experienced jealousy." Cato said bluntly. _I have been, and always will be, the best._

"Then you're arrogant." She responded.

"Well, duh." He smirked at her. She smiled back, and the rest of the short walk was silent. They reached the compartment, and Cato opened the door swiftly.

These tributes were quite a sight to behold. They were glaring at each other, refusing to break eye contact as the two mentors entered the cabin. The male, Helbor, was leaning smugly on a counter, arms crossed, obviously trying to make his chest and biceps look more intimidating. The female, Avery, was standing tall, hands on her hips, glowering at him. She looked the more mature of the two of them, and embodied a strong, intelligent grace. It was then that Cato realized he and Enobaria had been standing there long enough to have been addressed by these brats.

"If you two are done sizing each other up, we'd like to begin with some introductions." Cato snapped. He noticed that Helbor was the first to look at him, and Avery smirked as she looked at him, only doing so because she won the staring match. Her eyes were a light, grayish shade of green. Her eyelashes were lush and her rosy lips looked positively delectable. Cato shook the thought- this girl could be dead in a matter of weeks. Even still, it wouldn't be unusual if he managed to get a decent fuck out of her. "I'm sure you both know this, but I'm Cato and this is Enobaria. We will each be mentoring one of you; we will decide tonight who pairs up with whom, and then you two will be training separately, with the exception of your group trainings." He spat quickly. They should know the drill.

"We don't train together?" Helbor looked somewhat disappointed, and Avery looked at him like he was a moron.

"Did you really think we would be training together?" Avery remarked. "After what you did at the reaping? What a fucking idiot." Helbor blinked dumbly. Cato laughed internally.

"She's right. Whatever problems you two have- past relationship, whatever- you have to save it for the arena." Cato said casually.

"Oh, we definitely haven't- "

"I don't care." Cato cut Avery off candidly. She looked taken off guard momentarily, but then relaxed a moment later, one eyebrow raised in subtle defiance. Admittedly, it sent an unnerving, aroused shiver up Cato's spine.

"Well, I care." Enobaria cut in. "You two are supposed to be allies. What is going on?"

"She's the most hated girl in District 2." Helbor smirked, arms still crossed, staring at Avery.

"What?" Enobaria and Cato both asked at the same time. Avery sighed.

"The females in the Academy this year decided that if my name were to get drawn, nobody would volunteer so I would have to compete."

" _Have_ to compete?" Enobaria asked, clearly shocked. "So you don't want to be a champion? You don't want to compete in the Games?"

"She's a total fucking outcast. She's a freak." Helbor chuckled.

"I cannot believe an entire class of prospects elected to not volunteer for the Games, just to see you compete," Enobaria scoffed.

"Just to see her **die** would be more correct." Helbor winked at Avery. She made a move to spit at him, but stopped when she saw the look on Mica's face, partially horrified that Avery would dare to spit indoors, and partially concerned about getting in the cross fire. *Gulp*

"What the hell did you do to make everyone hate you?" Cato didn't understand.

Avery sighed, again. "My bunkmates apparently didn't take too kindly to a person like myself who had no innate desire to murder people as a sport." Cato tensed, but shook off the insinuation. He could see Enobaria bare her teeth out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, no shit." _Her life must have been total hell,_ Cato thought to himself. _And yet she seemed so strong, so sure of herself._ "Why didn't you just act like you wanted to compete?"

"Why should I have to do that?" She asked boldly. She had reasons a bit deeper than what she led on.

"I don't know… so you didn't end up here? So you didn't create enemies for yourself?" _What is it with her? Is she_ completely _stupid? Was all of this really worth her refusal to blend in?_

Avery laughed sourly. "Well, at least they won't be my enemies for much longer." Mica winced. Had Avery really already accepted her fate? She continued. "At the end of the day, I ended up here because those bitches in the Academy couldn't handle someone who wasn't totally hypnotized by our government and these barbaric 'Games'. And Shit for Brains over there has promised his friends to eliminate me in the most slow, painful, horrific way he can manage." She gestured casually to Helbor, feigning drama as she described his plans for her. He maintained his stare at her.

"You're targeting her?" Enobaria asked. He nodded, smiling devilishly. She shrugged, not seeming surprised. This previous victor obviously sided with District 2.

"Just out of curiosity, exactly how many people hate you?" Cato inquired, rubbing his face, growing very tired of this conversation and what it meant for him.

"Really just a few girls at the Academy."

"And?"

"Most of the Academy instructors."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He was now beyond frustrated. He agreed to mentor the less likely of these two to win the Games, and now it was very obviously Avery. "Do you have any idea how connected these instructors are to potential sponsors? If they hate you, what chance do you stand in the arena?"

"I said _most_ of the instructors." Avery smirked. "Maybe the two that tolerate me are the _money_ instructors."

"You're not taking this situation very seriously."

"I don't take _anything_ seriously."

"Well you should." He snapped, confidently and loudly, nearly shaking the cabin with his no-so-subtle irritation. Avery shrugged. _Who in the motherfucking hell does she think she is?! She's an idiot. She's an overly confident uncaring weird outcast of an idiot. She fucked up her whole life because she couldn't just smile and nod and pretend to be like everyone else. It's really not that difficult. But instead, this is what she chose. She deserves to die in these Games._

Cato wouldn't admit to himself that he knew more than most about the pressures of acting a certain way to please people, particularly in the Academy. _I was shipped off to the Academy when I was 6. I knew my place. I knew the boundaries and our expectations. I thrived. I survived._

"I hate to interrupt…" Mica said lightly, obviously made quite nervous. "Can we take a break from this terribly morbid conversation and have a nice dinner together?" Avery gave her a look of somewhat disbelief. Cato's thoughts mirrored hers. _Who in their right mind would suggest that the people in this room desire to sit in a room together, dine, and maintain casual conversation?_ "Oh, I know you'll all be at each other's throats in the morning. But for tonight, for this first night, can we all just get along?" She desperately wanted a family-type dynamic that simply wasn't going to happen this year. Avery surprised everyone.

"I'll behave if he does." She nodded at Helbor. He smiled and winked at her, again. Does this boy constantly have something in his eye? _Does he_ need _something in his eye?_ The angry thought flashed through Cato's mind before he could comprehend where it came from. Avery shook her head and sat next to Mica at the table. Cato looked at Enobaria, and she shrugged.

"I suppose we can all play nice for a little while." She drawled. As she and Cato stepped closer to the dinner table, she leaned in and whispered to him, "She's all yours, big guy. Good luck."

...

While Avery had managed a cold and heartless demeanor previously, during dinner she allowed soft warmth to her personality- if only temporarily to make Mica feel more comfortable. Though Mica radiated naivety, she was also compassionate with a desire to be accepted. Avery felt something in her soften for the woman. Helbor stayed mostly quiet, smirking and eyeing Avery like she was his dessert. She didn't refuse to make eye contact with him, like a coward. But she did refuse to react to his irritatingly sexual gaze.

On the opposite end of that spectrum, Cato seemed utterly repulsed by the idea of working with her. He didn't respond to any comments of hers, he didn't look her way and he didn't direct any conversation towards her. Admittedly, she was used to this sort of treatment, though typically by her own gender. She understood her effortless effect on men quite well, and men usually didn't make such a strong effort to distance themselves from her. She felt herself growing weary of maintaining this façade of strength and general togetherness. She wasn't sure whether she was looking forward to alone time that evening, or dreading it. She would have to face her own feelings, whatever those may be.

As the group had reached their capacity to continue eating, Mica suggested they all end the evening with a night cap in the nicer lounge area of their compartment. Avery sighed internally, but agreed politely. Enobaria made to leave, asking to speak with Helbor privately before she did so. Cato glanced up at her with irritation. Avery understood that Enobaria would be mentoring Helbor, while Cato was apparently stuck with her. _The most hated girl in District 2_.

"And what about you?" Mica asked Cato, still apparently allowing herself to feel at ease given the strange situation unfolding around them.

"I suppose." He huffed somewhat reluctantly. Avery was surprised that he agreed to have a drink with them at all, really. Not that Avery was happy about it, herself. She knew the kind of person this ruggedly handsome man actually was. He was ruthless and cold… he was a killer. He was the monster she had worked for years to not become. She would not let herself forget that.

Mica chatted with Cato for a bit as they all sipped on their beverages of choice. Avery and Cato had both chosen whiskey, neat. Mica prepared some kind of fruity pink thing. When Helbor finally joined them, obviously internally boasting to himself that he was to work with Enobaria, he had whiskey on ice with some kind of mixer. Avery smirked.

Mica and Cato chatted casually for a bit. Helbor joined in the conversation, as well, though Cato seemed to get annoyed whenever he spoke. _At least I'm not the only one who realizes this buffoon's frustrating lack of intelligence._ Avery stayed mostly quiet, trying to focus on the conversation enough so that she didn't drift into her own deeper thoughts and worries. Admittedly, it had been a while since she was included in a group conversation that was not with her parents. It felt rather strange. She kept her guard up, remaining stoic and alert, but polite. The conversation had now drifted to extracurricular activities. Mica thought it was thrilling being able to ask Cato what he enjoyed doing on his spare time. The answers he provided her were somewhat predictable. Exercising, weight lifting, sparring with his friends... _Surprise, surprise. The large man likes to lift heavy things,_ Avery mused to herself. Her eyes inadvertently drifted to the veins that led from his forearms to wrap around his ridiculously chiseled biceps. She caught a glimpse of his chest flexing beneath the athletic, tight-fitting shirt he was wearing. She quickly looked back to the beverage she had in her hand.

"So what about you?" Helbor asked Avery, having just- somewhat drunkenly- explained that his favorite hobbies were sword fighting and pursuing women. _Classy._

Avery rolled her eyes at his inquiry, but saw the interest in Mica's face so decided to answer. She took a second to collect her thoughts. "I suppose the time I most enjoyed in the Academy was when I could sneak away to the armory and watch the blacksmiths." The room remained quiet, so she elaborated. "It's something about the color of metal when it's heated over a flame, and the sound they make when they're being made into whatever weapon, or structure. It's calming to me. If I hadn't…" She trailed off somewhat quietly, thinking about the aspirations she'd had, never imagining that she would be chosen to compete in these treacherous Games. She took a moment, but then continued. "Anyways, I would have been a blacksmith." She had been staring out of the window closest to her, into blackness. She now glanced at Mica, who was wearing a soft, sympathetic smile.

"That's very nice." Mica responded. To Avery's surprise, Cato also seemed intrigued. For the first time, they met eyes for more than just a few seconds. He seemed to be attempting to read into hers, to figure her out a bit more. She got lost for those moments, not knowing what she was trying to accomplish. Something about the tiny interaction made her feel at ease.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Helbor giggling, and then burping. She glanced at him, and his eyes bored into her in a remarkably unpleasant way. "If you're so interested in weaponry, perhaps I'll let you choose the weapon I use." Avery laughed.

"Apparently, so long as I throw a teaspoon of hard alcohol at you, I have nothing to worry about." Helbor squinted at her, not fully comprehending her insult. "For the record, my cat could hold its liquor better than you can." Then he understood, and waved her comment away.

"Make jokes allllll you want. You know what's coming." He hiccupped. For the first time, his comment resonated with her. She was tempted to continue with the argument. To tell him about how drastically he was underestimating her. That he wouldn't know what hit him if she came at him with everything she had… But before her train of thoughts could become more violent, she stopped herself. _Calm down. This isn't you._

Instead, she downed her glass and rose. "Well. As fun as this has been", she noted sarcastically, giving Mica a smile, "I'm going to retire for the night."

"Want me to come with you?" Helbor shot up in a second, smirking seductively, and Avery realized how close they were in proximity. She could feel- and more importantly, smell- his breath on her face. She took in the contrast between his size and hers. He was large, and intimidating, and terrifying. For the first time, she was scared of him, and the thought of what he may do to her in a matter of weeks hit her like a brick to the face. And for right now, he wanted to go to bed with her. He undressed her with his eyes and leaned a bit closer to her.

She did not let any of her thoughts affect her demeanor, appearing stone faced and unamused.

Before she could respond to his disturbing advances, Cato grabbed Helbor by the back of the neck and began to lead him out of the lounge. "Time to go", was all Cato said. He didn't look at Avery as he whisked away with Helbor, rounding the corner to the hallway where Avery and Helbor's rooms were. Avery heard murmuring, and wondered what was being said. She waited a few moments, hearing the door to Helbor's room close. She heard a second door close, and assumed it was the door to the cabin as Cato left to take himself to his much nicer room on the other side of the train. Avery looked at Mica, whose face had slightly fallen in defeat. Avery put her hand on Mica's and gave her fingers a light squeeze.

"Tonight was nice," Avery lied. "Good night, Mica."

She retreated slowly down the hallway, shaking her head as she heard a drunken Helbor clunking around his room down the hall from hers. She wondered what would happen when she finally closed the door behind her and was alone for the first time in what felt like forever. Would she cry? Not that she was typically a crier. Would she smash something? Would she go crazy?

She would have to wait to find out. She opened the door to her room and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Cato sitting on her bed.

* * *

 **End notes: Again, please leave a short note! I would really love some feedback. Thanks, all. (:**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games, or many of the original characters that are or will be mentioned in this story.**

 **Avery Willowcress is my OC.**

 **Please leave comments/reviews! Would love to know how you guys are feeling about the storyline and character. I am feeling much more comfortable with Avery and where her character is going. What do you guys think? (:**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Avery wasn't sure what to think of her current visitor.

"May I help you?" She asked pointedly, attempting to appear unintimidated. He scoffed.

"I think you should be considering whether or not _I_ can help _you._ " Cato retorted, leaning back on the bed. Avery looked at him skeptically, then looked at the bed, then back at him. Cato rolled his eyes, reading her expression. "Not like _that_. I'm referring to my use as a mentor. You know, to help you survive."

"Ahh." Avery mocked realization. "How noble of you to offer your services. But… I'm going to have to pass." He shook his head, though he had expected this response.

"So, you're not even going to try to win?"

"Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't need _you_ to give me advice."

"Oh yeah, obviously I'm only a former winner of these Games, so there's no possible way I could offer a shred of advice that may help you." He was so arrogant- _so_ District 2. Just like all the other drones she'd grown up with. And what advice could he give her? Half of his kills in _his_ games were children under age 15. If she wanted to do what he did, it would be all too easy.

"Please." Avery laughed. "I'm quite confident I would be vehemently opposed to any suggestions of yours."

"And why would that be? Because I know more than you do, and you don't want to admit it?"

"Because I don't need a large muscular man to teach me how to kill _children_." Avery responded casually. Cato paused, shook his head in disbelief and stood up.

"If you think that's what it takes to win, you are dead ass wrong… but fine." He shrugged at her. "If you've decided that you would rather waltz into a game like this without _really_ understanding the rules and how to win, that's your business. If you want to accept that you'll never see your family again because _you_ were too stubborn to fight for them, that's just dandy." Her body tensed as he stood up to leave. "At least I can't say I didn't try." She didn't move as he brushed past her to open the door behind her, but he paused before he walked out. "And by the way, I'm sure you already know this, because you apparently know everything, and it's really none of my business anyways, but if you go into this unprepared, the entire world will be watching you get skinned by your own district partner for _years_. The Capitol will play that shit on repeat, highlighting the fact that you opposed the games and refused to fight. You will only be another reason for people like you, with 'morals', if you can call them that, to conform to the standard. Is that what you want?" He asked, looking down at her. She was at a loss for words- she didn't expect this volume of wisdom imparted by a man like Cato. Her heart raced, considering the points he made, and realizing how close they were to each other… they were nearly touching. She wasn't used to feeling like another person had power over her. She wasn't even used to being looked down at, literally; she was one of the taller students in her year at the Academy. But he did have an effect on her, one that she couldn't quite place. "My offer to help will last for another three days. Then, you're on your own."

And with that, he was gone. He closed the door firmly behind him, leaving Avery alone for the first time since the reaping. She stayed standing where she was, arms still crossed, silent. She was worried that once she chose to move, she would have no control over what happened next. That thought scared her, it immobilized her, really- the thought of losing control. Cato's words buzzed through her mind, and after what felt like forever, she turned to lock the door to her cabin, so at least she wouldn't have to worry about Helbor making his way into her room during the night. The train would be arriving to the Capitol tomorrow, where they would be assigned their own separate suites, though the district-mates would be on the same floor. Then would have three days of group training, and three weeks for individual training… then the Games began. That was it: less than a month.

 _Shit. What am I going to do?_

Then, for the next 20 minutes or so, Avery saw red.

When she was finally calm and aware enough to understand her surroundings, she looked around at her practically destroyed room, totally numb. The silence was eerie- it felt like the room had fallen victim to some kind of mass tragedy, and the ghosts still remained. She slowly got into bed, still wearing her dress from the reaping, and drifted off to sleep.

 **…**

Cato had hoped that Avery's guard had only been raised during the day because she was attempting to embody strength while in the same room as Helbor. He thought that perhaps, if he talked to her alone, she would soften up and be honest with him. But either this stubborn, overly righteous demeanor was who she was all the time, or she distrusted him just as much as she distrusted her district partner. Cato thought perhaps a little of both were accurate, but the latter of the options was more truly driving her attitude. Regardless, Cato felt that he had struck some sort of nerve in her before he had left. That was all he needed, really- to pull her out of this emotionless, careless attitude that she was so good at maintaining. If he could do that, he might be able to give her something to fight for, and he might be able to get her to compete.

 _If I get her to the top ten, at least my stats won't suffer too much,_ he thought.

Even tonight, as he told her she had three days to decide whether or not she wanted his help, he thought he saw a flicker of consideration in her eyes. He also noticed for the first time the soft crest of a bruise outlining her left brow, and a small cut on her lip. She had likely earned those earlier that day at the Academy from her classmates. When he had been at the Academy, he was the one administering those marks to others- though the ones he targeted were weak. Avery was _definitely_ not weak; you could see it in the way she walked and held herself. She was strong, and graceful, and beautiful…

His mind then wandered further, imagining what it would be like to train her. He pictured sparring with her. He would get the best of her, flipping her to the mat and pinning her with his forearm held across her neck. He could imagine her, sweating lightly, panting, with her cheeks tinted pink, looking up at him with admiration and desperation. The thought of it aroused him almost instantly. He attempted to shake it off; the girl was obviously repulsed by him. And she was _such_ an arrogant little prick. The fact that he felt some kind of strange attraction to her was a mystery in itself.

Cato remained in the hallway just outside of her door, curious to listen to how the strange girl would react to being alone. Would he hear sobs coming from her room? Or was she really as unaffected and stone cold as she tried to act? He was expecting almost anything but complete silence, which is what he was met with. It was total, absolute silence. He could hear Helbor's loud, intoxicated snores from across the hall. But from Avery's room, it was like you could hear a pin drop. It was odd, and scary. Cato almost considered cracking the door, to see what was going on. Perhaps she had fainted? But finally, after an excruciatingly long time, he heard the door lock. He heard her footsteps walking away from the door frame. He heard her take in a deep breath, but no crying. No sniffling. _Interesting._ He was a bit disappointed, realizing that if she truly maintained this unfeeling persona, she would never accept his help. Cato Hadley would be mentor to the first tribute to die in this year's Hunger Games; what a _joke_. He decided to head back to his own cabin, his head spinning with thoughts. He was usually so good at predicting people- but this girl… she was _not_ a normal person. She was tougher, she was careful and questioning and untrusting. But then he remembered the softness he saw in her when she agreed to partake in dinner and drinks to make Mica happy, and how she had talked about becoming a blacksmith. She was obviously intelligent, and she _had_ feelings, but they were buried deep down by an unrelenting stubbornness.

Just as Cato was just about to close the door to their car and walk down the train to his own suite, a loud noise made him pause. He was down the hall from Avery's room, but he could hear what sounded like a growl, or a roar even, and the colliding of some sort of object with the wall. He heard smashing and breaking, and another angry shout. Cato pictured what must be happening in there. Her anger, or fear, or pure realization had built up to unleash a fury on her cabin and whatever poor items may have been within it. He continued to listen to the beautiful sound of crashing, and anger, and destruction. He smiled softly.

 _Good girl. I knew you had it in you._ And before long, it was silent again. No crying, no heaving, no screaming. Amazingly enough, he could still hear Helbor snoring ignorantly from his own room.

 **…**

The next day seemed to pass rather quickly. They arrived at the Capitol in the morning and were promptly escorted to their prep teams for the usual beautification routine- waxing, scrubbing, bathing, etc. Avery felt like she was in a trance; after taking her anger out on her room the night before, she felt she could start fresh with her usual nonchalant attitude and sense of humor, but her mind was spinning contemplating what Cato had said to her. Then at some point, she knew that now was not the time or place to be considering the idea of fighting in the games- she had to go numb. She had to put on a brave face for her own sake, and she did. She could feel herself saying words at times, but wasn't quite sure what she'd said. For now, she was on autopilot.

After what seemed like hours of "pampering", she was escorted to her room. Luckily, while she was on the same floor as Helbor, Cato, and Enobaria, the space was huge and she practically had an entire suite to herself shut away from the District 2 common area. She would have plenty of alone time, which was more than what she was used to. She had a large, luxurious down comforter set atop an unusually wide bed. She plopped herself down and looked around for a moment. Then sighed, and regained her ability to have original thoughts. This time, she was ready to deal with whatever emotions came with her decision.

 _"_ _You will only be another reason for people like you, with 'morals', if you can call them that, to conform to the standard. Is that what you want?"_

Cato's words rang in her ears again. She could remember every deflection of his voice, his tone… She could feel the heat coming off of his body as he brushed past her. She could almost feel his firm muscles, flexing against his shirt…

 _"_ _My offer to help will last for another three days. Then, you're on your own."_

Avery put her head in her hands. She couldn't possibly compete in these games… She couldn't set out to kill innocent children. But could she possibly go into it, prepared to only defend herself? Could she play just enough to only have to fight against the ones who set out to kill her, like Helbor? She shook her head. No.

She knew what she was capable of. Once she was in the arena, if she was trying to win, who knows what part of her she would unleash? What if she couldn't control herself? What if it was like what happened in her room last night, only she wasn't just breaking pieces of furniture and mirrors? What if she lost control, and it was another person on the receiving end of her unstoppable wrath? She sighed.

Perhaps she would train, and practice, if only to kill Helbor. Once she killed him, she could allow herself to fall victim to the games. At least then, she wouldn't be tortured and humiliated for her family to see. Her _family_ , though. Could they ever forgive her if they were to see her kill someone? If she killed Helbor, would that be even worse?

 _There's no winning._ She realized to herself. _Only choosing which way you'd like to lose._

 **…**

Cato hadn't seen Avery all day, not since they'd passed each other briefly while she was ushered off to her makeover. When she'd passed him, she refused to look him in the eye- she'd just stared straight ahead, her chin up, her posture straight and confident. He was hoping he'd get some sort of response from her, but he supposed she was too stubborn to admit it that early on in the day. Maybe he'd find her out and about at a later time.

That afternoon, he'd walked about their floor, then visited the group training room and training areas in hopes of finding her there, ready to fight. Ready to accept him as her mentor. But, of course, little miss _'too good for this'_ was still in her room, locked up, not taking anything seriously. He shook off his disappointment and went out to one of his preferred bars in the Capitol, and after having spotted a woman attractive enough to bed, he made his move and was soon heading back to his suite with her on his arm. He listened to her blabber on about how she had _known_ he would be a champion the first time she ever saw him on screen. He was extremely used to hearing this from his lady admirers. Her fingers wrapped seductively around his biceps. But for some reason, his thoughts flicked back to being close to Avery in her room the night before. He thought of the shape of her pink lips and her cold, grey-green eyes. But she didn't see him as the superstar everyone else did- Avery thought he was a monster. A murderer.

The woman he was with could be her opposite. She was on the shorter side, rather petite, really. She compensated for this with ridiculously tall heels and obviously plastic features. Cato wondered if there was anything on her that she hadn't acquired with surgery. But he would enjoy her, nonetheless.

They entered the District 2 common room around 3:00am, and to Cato's surprise, Avery was in the kitchen, wearing a loose grey t shirt, boxing shorts, and long socks. She looked ridiculous- _and adorable_. The look on her face as she eyed the couple was amused- she smirked and raise a brow as she continued eating what appeared to be chocolate pudding she'd smuggled out of the fridge. It bothered Cato that she didn't seem upset, or uncomfortable… or jealous. _The ignorant little brat_. He ushered the woman from the bar into his room, told her to get comfortable, and turned quickly to approach Avery in the kitchen, who hadn't moved from her spot. He stood for a second, staring at her expectantly. _Wasn't she going to explain herself? Or respond to his offer the night before?_

Her eyes had been fixed on her late-night snack, but now they wandered up to Cato's gaze. She looked at him questioningly, then looked back to her pudding.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being rude." She gestured her bowl and spoon towards him. "Would you like some?" He shook his head.

"What the hell are you doing up so late? You have your first group training session tomorrow."

"Haven't you ever heard of carb loading?" She asked smiled mockingly. "I know what I'm doing."

"Of _course_ you do." He sighed. She chuckled, driving him insane.

"Don't you have more _pressing_ matters to attend to?" She gestured to his room.

 _The only reason I brought her back here was to get my mind off your crazy, stubborn ass,_ Cato thought. What he actually said was, "I certainly have more _attractive_ matters to attend to." Avery snorted. Both she and Cato knew that the bar woman was in _no_ way more attractive than she was, but that was not the point.

"Then _why_ are you here?" She challenged him, staring daggers into his icy blue eyes.

"I don't know, I guess I thought maybe you'd have an answer for me by now." He thought he saw her tense up a bit; if so, it was brief.

"You said three days." She shrugged.

"Two days, now."

"I'm still weighing out my options." She drawled smoothly. Almost intimidatingly. Cato thought she needed to be brought down a peg.

"Right. Trying to decide between training with me, or dying."

"I'm dying either way. I'm trying to decide if I can stand to be in a room with you long enough to actually learn anything."

"You know? You're right. Maybe this isn't worth either of our time." Avery raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we'd all be better off if you just let Helbor have his way with you."

"Or mayyyybe," she stalked towards Cato, "I don't need someone like _you_ to tell me how to stay alive in the arena." Cato hated to admit it, but for a second, he doubted himself. She just seemed so strong, so sure of herself- did he actually have anything to offer her?

 _PAH!_ He scolded himself internally. _You have everything to offer anyone. You're a champion- you're a star. You're stronger, smarter and more skilled than she is. This little petulant insufferable_ girl _is nothing compared to you. If she wants to die, let her die. And speaking of how much you have to offer…_

"Think what you want, I'd hate to keep someone waiting who _knows_ what I'm capable of giving her." This time, Avery laughed. Her laugh was light and sunny, like wind chimes, or a songbird. Her smile was radiant- Cato wondered how often she smiled like this. While her smile was at his expense, he had an unnerving desire to make her smile more often.

"Rather than asking yourself if you're capable of giving her what she wants, ask yourself what other people _actually_ expect of you." She shot at him quickly. "I guarantee you that I have _much_ higher standards than you're used to." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked back to her room. Her messy, wavy ponytail swung with her sway. Cato had a primal desire to grab it, and bend her over the kitchen counter. But he didn't. He just watched her walk, admiring her backside as it was perfectly outlined by the shorts she wore.

Feeling at a loss for words, his ego having been challenged for the first time in a _very_ long time, he briskly walked back to his room to find the woman from the bar in her undergarments, sprawled across his bed seductively. She was in for a rough one tonight.

Soon enough, he was pounding into her, eliciting a chorus of ear-piercing moans and finding the right spot to bring her to climax. He grabbed her hips firmly enough to earn bruises in the morning, all while imagining that he was proving to Avery that he was better than her, that he could dominate her, and that he was worthy of her. He finally finished, feeling admittedly dissatisfied.

What was it about this stupid girl from his home district, coming into his life like every other tribute year after year, questioning him the way she did? Who did she _think_ she was? But all the while Cato reflected on their previous conversation, he realized he was dealing with an insecurity that he hadn't felt before. A small desire to be a bit better than he has been in the past- he wanted to prove himself to her. But _why?_

 **…**

When Avery was sure Cato was in his room for the night, she pulled her training shoes on and snuck out of her room, and out of the District suite. She found the staircase leading to the training room, which she was sure would be empty. At this time of the night, it had always been deserted at the Academy, too. This was when she could practice her skills, and her control, without dealing with onlookers. If people really knew what she could do…

She stretched her arms out casually as she took in her surroundings. When she'd walked in, the overhead lights came on as well as a string of lights leading to a large inventory of weapons and tools. A series of pull-up bars and other exercise equipment was clustered in one corner, with an open area for sparring in another. There was an area with a number of person-sized dummies and even a small lap pool. She perused the weaponry, sliding her finger along the variety of blades. This room would do just fine.

She made her way to an open area with a padded ground to begin her warm-up routine that she had missed in the last few days. She stretched upwards, then bent forwards, touching the ground and releasing the tension from her body. She bent forward further, touching her forearms to the ground. After allowing herself a minute in this position, she took turned stretching each of her legs backwards up towards the sky, all the while keeping perfect balance. She stood up straight again, stretching upwards then slowly went into a backbend, touching the ground. She waited a few moments, then kicked her legs forward and flipped over easily. She'd missed this feeling- though it was brief, it felt like freedom.

After she felt adequately nimble, she walked back over to the shelf of weapons. She picked up a small axe, and a handful of knives. Glancing over at the dummies, she knew what they were in for. She tossed one of the knives into the air, and caught it as it came back down naturally.

 _Here goes nothing_.

* * *

 **Ooooh I'm so excited for where this story is going! I've been eager to introduce this side of Avery. (: She's so complex and interesting. Wait til you hear her full back story… (; What do you guys think of Cato's reaction to everything?**


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